Not that easy
by little purple butterflies
Summary: Reid's dreams suggested that there were some hidden memories burried in his mind. He needed to know if it was true. And he needed to know what really happened all those years ago. Missing Scene for Memoriam (4x07)


******_All characters are property of CBS, Jeff Davis, Edward Allen Bernero and sadly not mine. I just play with them a little and then hand them back to their owners. I took some scenes from the episode to help make the "missing moments" I added easier to visualize and understand.  
Special thanks to my dear friend Sarah (1983Sarah) for all her help and encouragement and being a great beta. Thanks to everyone who read and/or reviewed one of my others stories.  
I dedicate this to my friend Annber03. Hope you enjoy it. :)_**

"_Dreams - a microscope through which we look at the hidden occurrences in our soul." German social psychologist Erich Fromm_

"Must have been quite a conversation. What was it about?"

Reid heard Morgan's question, but his mind was to busy remembering everything he had ever read about hypnosis to give an immediate answer.

Why hadn't he thought of that possibility? It could help him access some of the memories that were buried in his subconscious right now and maybe he would finally get some answers.

Spencer was determined to find out what had happened to Riley Jenkins and what those visions meant that he had been having during their latest case here in Las Vegas. But deep down he had to admit that most of all he wanted to know the truth about his father.

When they had closed the case he had thought that the dreams would decrease in frequency like they did in the past, but the following night it had been back - though a bit different again - and it had been more shocking than ever: It had revealed the killer to be no one else than his own father.

But, as Rossi had pointed out earlier that day, that also meant that William Reid was a child molester. And maybe his suppressed memories were keeping that very fact from him.

Though he was staring straight ahead Spencer noticed that both of his colleagues were looking expectantly at him, waiting for an answer.

So he simply said, "How to stop smoking," and left the room with Morgan and Rossi following him, both wearing a puzzled look on their faces.

Back at the lobby they went over to the couches that were placed in a corner and sat down on an 'L'-shaped one, so that the young agent was seated between his team members.

Dave leaned forward a bit and asked, "What was so interesting about that conversation for you to just leave two thousand dollars to a complete stranger?"

"She told me, she had tried everything to stop smoking without success. So I suggested trying hypnosis," Reid explained.

"And?" Morgan didn't understand where his friend was going with that, and judging from the expression on his face, neither did their superior.

"Hypnosis can also be used to recover memories," the young profiler answered.

"So you want to try it to help you remember," Dave concluded.

Spencer nodded.

"To get this straight: You really expect to remember something that happened when you were four?" Derek queried.

"It is generally believed that children develop a cognitive memory at the age of three," the genius replied.

"I'll take that as a yes, then." After a moment the black agent added, "Okay, I'll go with you."

He could still hear Reid screaming his name when he had a nightmare a few days ago. That night he had vowed to help his friend getting rid of whatever was bothering him in any way he could. It had been pretty clear that their last case had triggered some memories that were buried in the young man's mind.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Rossi said carefully.

He was concerned about Morgan's reaction if Spencer's currently not accessible memories would reveal that he had been molested as a child.

"Someone should accompany him," Derek replied.

"Then it will be me," Dave stated.

Reid didn't really want anyone to hear what he would remember under hypnosis, but if he had to choose between his teammates, it would be his superior, simply because Morgan was too close a friend.

The black agent was about to protest when Rossi held up his hand. "Trust me, it's better that way."

"It's okay, Morgan," Reid said with almost pleading eyes, knowing that his friend could read between the lines.

He saw acceptance in Derek's eyes when the man said, "But I'm gonna drive you at least." _'So I'll be there if you need me,'_ was the unspoken message.

The young profiler nodded at that.

"You already have a psychiatrist in mind?" Rossi asked after a moment.

"Yeah, I do," Spencer answered.

Morgan got up. "So, what are we waiting for?"

Together they left the hotel and got into the SUV. Sitting on the passenger's side, the genius navigated Derek through the thick traffic on the streets of Las Vegas. Arriving at their destination, Rossi and Reid opened the car's doors.

Before Spencer could get out of the car, Morgan briefly put a comforting hand on the other agent's arm and got a small smile in return. Then the profiler watched as his teammates entered the building and with mixed feelings settled to wait for their return.

Rossi followed the young agent who was leading the way to the practice of a Dr. Sarah Daniels. They showed the receptionist their badges and asked if they could speak to the psychiatrist.

The young woman asked, "Could you wait a moment, please?" before leaving her desk and entering a room to the right of them.

Dave looked at his fellow agent and noticed that he was pretty nervous. "You don't have to do this," he reminded the young man.

"I have to find out what my mind is trying to tell me," Spencer replied.

Just then the receptionist came back and said, "Dr. Daniels is gonna be with you in a minute. You can wait in her office. Would you please follow me?"

The profilers complied and when they entered the room, the young woman offered," Please take a seat." With that she left.

Reid sat down on the left one of the two chairs that were positioned in front of a dark woodened chair, while Rossi took the other.

The young agent was trying to suppress his nervousness as much as he could. He didn't really feel comfortable with what he was about to do, but this was his only chance to find out what had happened all those years ago. He felt his superior's concerned glance on him.

At that moment an elderly woman with short blond hair, who was wearing a black dress, entered the room. "I'm Dr. Daniels," she introduced herself, and then she closed the door and walked over to the desk.

"Thank you for seeing us on, uh, such a short notice," Reid said.

Sitting down at the table across from the profilers, she replied, "Oh, I'm always happy to assist the FBI." Addressing Rossi, she asked, "Is there a witness you want me to look at?"

The senior agent remained silent, letting his young colleague do the talking, since it was concerning him.

So Spencer answered, "Uh, yeah. Me." Even more nervous now that her focus was on him, he clarified, "I'm trying to, uh, recover memories from my childhood. There-there was a murder."

Her voice softer now, she wanted to know, "How long ago are we talking about?"

"I was four." Reid's answer sounded more like a question.

The psychiatrist sighed and told them, "Memories from that age can be difficult to interpret."

The senior profiler glanced at his team member with an expression that said, 'You still wanna do this?', but it went unnoticed by the young man.

"I'm aware of the limitations of hypnotherapy," he said.

"Then you're also aware of suggestion issues. If you've looked into this, you may have a bias."

While Spencer was briefly looking at his superior, Rossi now did enter the conversation. "Are you saying what he remembers under hypnosis may not be real?"

"It's a possibility. Either way it's a tough sell in court," she answered.

"Uh, we won't be using this for evidentiary purposes," Reid replied, "It's… well, it's really just for me." He paused and lowered his gaze briefly, but nonetheless saw his superior looking at him again. After a moment he continued, "The suppressed memories are about my father."

Dr. Daniels tilted her head at that.

"I'd like to monitor the session, make sure you… get him to the right place," Dave now said.

"You wanna sit in," the psychiatrist clarified.

Dave nodded.

"I don't normally allow that," she told him.

"In case you haven't realized… nothing about this is normal," Rossi countered.

After a moment of consideration she nodded once. "As you wish." Addressing Reid, she said, "Please tell me about the memory you want to recall. You said there was a murder."

"Yes, a six-year-old boy named Riley Jenkins was murdered."

"And you were four at that time."

"That's right. And I think something has happened then concerning my father, but I can't remember."

"Is there anything you do remember from that time?" Dr. Daniels asked.

Considering her question Spencer answered, "My parents were arguing one night. I had already gone to bed, but I could hear their voices."

"That's good. We can use that as a starting point." She stood up. "Are you familiar with the procedure of a hypnotic session?"

The young agent nodded.

"I would propose the couch, if that's all right with you," she continued.

"Yeah, it's okay," Reid replied and also got up.

"Very well. Please lay down then." While Spencer went over to said piece of furniture that was located in front of the window on the other side of the room, the psychiatrist addressed the senior agent. "You can sit over there," she pointed to a chair that was facing the couch," and I have to ask you to be silent during the session."

"Of course," Rossi nodded.

Satisfied, she pulled up a chair to the couch, so that she sat parallel to the young man whose head was propped up on the armrest, cushioned with a small pillow.

Her focus now completely on him, she asked," Would you please tell me your first name, Agent Reid?"

"Spencer," came the reply.

The therapist instructed with a calm, soothing voice, "All right, Spencer, I want you to relax…. close your eyes… and begin breathing deeply and slowly…"

Rossi watched as the young profiler's eyes closed and tension clearly left his body with every breath.

Dr. Daniels continued, "The muscles in and around your eyes will relax all by themselves as you continue breathing… easily and free… without thinking about it, you will soon enter a deep, peaceful, hypnotic trance, without any effort… there is nothing important for your conscious mind to do… there is nothing really important except the activities of your subconscious mind… you are breathing much more easily and freely… your subconscious will listen to each word I say… and it keeps becoming less important for you to consciously listen to my voice… You understand everything I say and you can answer freely…"

She paused for a moment, and then instructed, "You now have total recall at will… reach in now and remove any block to your memory... anytime you feel the block coming back, take a deep breath and the block melts away… remembering is now a priority for you… it is no longer a battle to remember: it's easy and natural for you to remember… as you receive new information you have total recall of this information at will… all information that you have ever seen, heard or felt is now totally available to you… all information is recorded in your subconscious mind and you now have the ability to retrieve that information at will."

She gently took Reid's left hand and wrapped it around her left wrist, before saying, "I want you to hold my wrist in your left hand and if you should feel any fear, I want you to squeeze. Do you understand?"

When Spencer answered, his voice was low and soft, "Yes."

"Go back to the night you were just telling me about. You're at home in your room… You can't sleep because your parents are arguing."

After a moment of silence, the young agent said, "He's coming in."

"Who?" the psychiatrist asked and gave Rossi a concerned glance, who wasn't that calm anymore. He hoped that the suspicion they had about the genius' father wouldn't be confirmed.

"It's dad," Reid answered.

Gently Dr. Daniels asked," What about him, Spencer? What's he doing?"

His voice was unmistakably shaking and he was almost begging when he said," I don't wanna be here."

Dave was really concerned now. His colleague's reaction clearly indicated that there had been something happening that was uncomfortable to the young man. And Rossi's mind could easily picture some possibilities.

But he had to focus. They weren't finished with the session yet.

The psychiatrist reacted instantly, "Okay, it's okay, Spencer. Take us to where the light is, to the next morning. The sun is coming up. Where are you, Spencer?"

Again it took a few seconds for Reid to reply. "Mom. My mom, she's at the window. She – I think she's been crying… She saw him…"

"Who?" She looked briefly at the senior agent again, as if he had an answer. "Your father?" The therapist paused before asking, "Do you talk to her?"

Spencer shook his head slightly. "No, I…" he said almost inaudibly. He swallowed and tried again, "I wanna-I wanna see."

Rossi saw the agent's grip on the psychiatrist's arm tighten suddenly, while his face turned into a grimace, his body tensing up now. The young man clearly seemed to be fighting with what his memories were showing him.

Dr. Daniels asked in a raised voice, "What is it, Spencer? What are you seeing?" Alarmed, Dave sat forward in the chair and interjected, "That's enough."

With a wave of her hand, she quieted him, her focus completely on the young agent. "I need you to leave this location now, Spencer."

But Reid didn't seem to respond, so Dave quickly got up from the chair, his usual calm demeanor forgotten, fearing that the therapist had lost control over the session. He knelt down next to the armrest that held the other man's head and facing the psychiatrist he urged, "Dammit, wake him up!"

By now Spencer's head was moving back and forth, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

The psychiatrist instructed, "I'm going to count backwards from five. Five, four, three, two, one and wake!"

The agent's eyes shot up immediately and he released the woman's wrist while trying to catch his breath.

Rossi looked at the therapist to assure himself that the young man had gotten out of the hypnosis as planned. Then he put his hands on his colleague's left shoulder and chest in a slightly restraining manner that he hoped would also be a calming gesture.

His attention now fully on Spencer, who was frantically looking around, he said soothingly, "Reid."

At that the other profiler's brown eyes found his. Dave continued, "It's okay, it's okay." The senior agent noticed that his teammate was still partially caught in his memories when he brought up his left arm in an effort to shake off the hand that was still on his shoulder and was trying to get away.

"It's okay, it's okay, Reid, it's okay." Spencer's struggles ceased as he was coming back to reality. Seeing that, Rossi asked, "What happened?"

The genius turned his head and looked straight forward, his breathing a bit steadier now.

His superior queried gently," What did you see?"

The young agent gave Dr. Daniels a quick glance as he tried to calm down, then he avoided eye contact with both his superior and the therapist.

Right now he couldn't deal with any questions they had, the pictures of his memories were still too vivid in his mind. A part of him had believed that his father had been involved in Riley's murder, but now he had some proof.

What he couldn't figure out was his mother's role in all that.

It was clear now that she must have been aware of something. After all she had seen William burning the bloody clothes, too. Had she known it all along? He somehow couldn't believe that.

Nonetheless Spencer's only chance was to ask her about it, if he wanted to know the truth. His father had never touched him, but that didn't necessarily mean that he wasn't a child molester.

He became aware of the concerned glances he got and looked up at Rossi, who now asked, "You wanna sit up?" The young profiler simply nodded and with his superior's help he moved into a sitting position.

The psychiatrist stood up from her chair after reassuring herself that Spencer had completely gotten out of the hypnosis and gave the agents a bit of privacy, for which Dave was grateful. It would be hard enough to get some answers from the young man even without audience.

Reid sat forward, his elbows propped up on his thighs and his head in his hands, before brushing back his hair. Next to him Rossi was leaning against the back of the couch, thinking about how to approach the subject.

The question now was: How much did Spencer trust him?

Early on Dave had noticed that the young agent seemed to be relatively comfortable with him, but would he open up to his superior? Because, for a guy who was always talking nonstop, Reid was pretty guarded when it came to anything that concerned his personal life.

Plus, this wasn't an official case, so he wouldn't have to. And quite frankly Dave wouldn't blame him if he didn't, because whatever he had remembered had to be something horrible judging from the other man's reaction.

Now he actually wished that Morgan was in his place, because the agent was really close to Reid. This wasn't the case though, so it was his responsibility, not as a superior, but as a friend. Because the other agent had managed to get under his skin and Rossi had started to see why the team was so protective of their youngest member.

Dave didn't know what had happened seventeen years ago between the genius and his father to make Spencer so angry to readily assume that his old man was a criminal and blocking out any other possibilities.

When Reid had told him that he wanted to stay in Vegas for a couple of more days, the senior agent hadn't bought that he just wanted to visit his mother, though he wasn't sure why and what had been going on in the young man's head. But when Morgan had also decided to stay, he had suspected that it was something serious, he had done so, too.

And he had been relieved, when Spencer had accepted their offer to help. Because he had clearly heard the reluctance in Reid's voice, despite his assurance that he was ready for it, when Derek had stated, that they would have to track down his father. And Dave was sure that Morgan had also detected it.

So he had known right from the beginning that they wouldn't have been able to talk their colleague out of it. But he had tried nonetheless, to give Reid a chance to back off before they were in too deep to do so.

When they had talked to William Reid, Spencer had been calm - way too calm and controlled - at least on the outside.

His father on the other hand had almost seemed amused, but Rossi had gotten the feeling that there had been something right under the surface that the man had been trying to hide from them. Could it be related to what the young agent had remembered?

He fervently hoped that it wasn't what he suspected, that William had at least not touched his son, though Spencer's reaction seemed quite clear when he had said under hypnosis that his father had come into his room, then almost begged to leave this place.

There was only one way to find out.

"Are you all right?" Dave asked gently, even though he knew perfectly well, that the other man was anything but. Still, he needed a way to get him talking.

He wasn't really surprised when he didn't get an answer. So he continued, "You said, you watched your mother standing at the window, obviously seeing something outside. You suspected that she was crying, so you wanted to take a look yourself… What did you see?"

Next to him, Reid tensed a bit again, clearly recalling that memory now. He swallowed before answering in a small voice, "I saw my father, he was… in the garden…"

When Spencer didn't explain any further, Rossi leaned forward and studying the other man's facial profile he asked, "What was he doing?" He was a little surprised, when the young profiler turned around to face him.

Reid took a deep breath and when he answered, he looked his superior in the eye, "He was throwing some clothes in a fire… bloody clothes."

For a moment Dave was stunned. He had expected a lot of things, but certainly not this.

"How can you be sure that your memories are genuine?" He got no response.

Instead Reid got up and murmured, too soft for the senior agent to hear, "I have to talk to my mom."

As he moved to leave the room, his superior also stood up and followed him. They had almost reached the door when it opened and Dr. Daniels appeared in the frame.

Spencer rushed past her with a "Thank you" and Rossi added, "We really appreciated your help," before he tried to catch up with the young profiler. "Reid, what's going on?"

The genius stopped and waited for Dave to reach him. "I have to talk to my mom," he answered.

"You think she remembers, too?"

"That's what I wanna find out."

They walked in silence for a moment in which the senior agent debated with himself if he should approach another issue and decided to ask.

"You also recalled your father coming into your room at night. Did he ever…?" He left out the rest of the question, knowing that the other profiler would understand.

"No," Spencer simply replied.

Dave was relieved. The young man had experienced enough in his life without discovering that he had been molested by his own father.

When they reached the car and got in, Morgan glanced expectantly at his friend.

"How did it go?" he asked.

"I promise, I'll tell you later. I need to speak with my mom first," was Reid's answer.

Derek looked at Rossi in the back of the car who just nodded. So he started the engine and pulled the vehicle onto the street. No one said a word until they reached Bennington Sanitarium.

"You want one of us to go with you?" Morgan asked though he already knew the answer to his question.

"No, I'll be okay. I won't be long." With that he opened the car's door and got out. His colleagues watched as he entered the building.

"He's pretty upset. What happened?" Derek wanted to know and turned around to the other agent.

"The hypnosis was successful. He remembered something. Or rather thinks he did," his superior answered.

"What do you mean? What did he remember?"

"I'll leave that for him to tell you. But the psychiatrist explained to us, that since he already had knowledge of the case, whatever he would remember might not be real," Dave explained.

Derek nodded, and then said, "So he wants to find out if it has indeed happened."

"Yeah, he does," Rossi confirmed.

Meanwhile the young profiler had reached his mother's room. She sat in a chair, reading a book, and she looked up when he entered.

"Spencer, it's good to see you," she greeted warmly and stood up, placing the book on the seat.

He stepped closer to her. "Mom, I need to ask you something."

"Anything, my baby."

"I remembered something. Something I saw when I was four."

"And what's that, Spencer?"

"I got up one morning and I saw you standing at a window in our house, looking at something outside. It was right after Riley Jenkins was murdered. Please tell me, what did you see then?"

Diana turned away from him and walked over to the room's window, not answering.

"Try to remember, mom," the young agent pleaded desperately.

When she replied, her voice had lost the warmth it held only moments ago. "No, I can't."

Spencer explained," You were there. You watched dad burn the bloody clothes."

"You had a dream."

"Mom, it was not a dream. It was a memory." Diana turned around again while he continued, "It's a memory and I saw you."

She came over to him and taking his head gently in her hands, she said, "Your mind, oh, such a treasure." She lowered her hands to take his. "Even as a baby you knew things you weren't supposed to know."

In a low voice the profiler replied, "This isn't about me. This is about Riley Jenkins."

"It was always about you," Diana stated.

Not really knowing what to make of that he led her over to the bed and begged in a whisper, "Please, mom, please, please, just try to remember. Remember Riley." They both sat down. "Riley," he repeated.

Diana's gaze seemed fixed on something in front of her. Spencer leaned forward slightly to look up at her face. When she spoke, her voice sounded distant. "Riley… Riley was real... Oh, poor Riley." She lowered her head and shook it.

Realizing that she was currently in a more lucid state the young agent decided to ask further. "Yes, Riley, poor Riley. Did dad do something to him?"

Now she turned her head to look at him and answered, "Dad? No."

"Think, think, think," he urged.

Diana's voice grew louder as she replied, "No, no… That's... No, no! You're confusing me, Spencer. No!"

But the profiler didn't stop. He wanted to hear the truth, or what he suspected the truth would be. "You-you knew, mom. You knew about dad, and you didn't do anything. Why?"

"No, you don't know!" Diana was almost screaming now. "No, no, you don't know! YOU DON'T KNOW! NO, NO!"

Spencer was immediately trying to calm her, "Mom… mom."

But it didn't work, which was evident when she got up and hit her head repeatedly with her hands while she was screaming incoherently. The door opened and a male nurse entered. The agent stepped aside and almost collided with a dark-haired woman, another nurse. Both medicals were now trying to calm his upset mother.

"It's all right, Diana, I'll just give you something to relax," the young nurse said and injected her with something.

A few feet away Spencer watched all that, distraught about what he had just done. He had practically been trying to force his mother to remember what he wanted to hear, regardless of her condition.

Diana relaxed and sat back down on the bed while the agent rubbed his face, frustration clearly evident. Her gaze fixed on the floor, her voice was low when she uttered, "It could have been you."

Her son stared at her. "What? What did you say?" He gently pushed the young nurse aside and sat down next to his mother on the bed.

"It could have been you," she repeated emotionlessly.

Spencer didn't know what that exactly meant, but she didn't offer any kind of explanation and he knew better than to try and get it out of her now. So he just whispered," I'm sorry, Mom."

When she didn't react to that, he decided not to stay longer than a few more minutes. After all, Morgan and Rossi would already be waiting for him.

Once outside he took a deep breath and made his way over to the SUV. When he opened the door and got in, he was met with two pairs of eyes.

"Did she confirm your memory?" Dave wanted to know.

Reid shook his head and answered, "No, she didn't remember." _Even when I practically forced her to_, he thought.

"So what now?" Morgan asked.

"I think we still have enough to invite my father to a lovely little chat at the police station," Spencer said.

Derek and Dave shared a glance, before the senior agent queried, "You really wanna do this, Reid?"

"Apart from my mother, he's the only other person who knows what happened," the young agent explained.

"All right, back to the station, then," his friend said, turned the key and drove through the streets, which were starting to become familiar to him.

The genius pulled out his cell phone and called Detective Hyde. Morgan and Rossi could detect the cop's reluctance to bring in William Reid, even though they only listened to one side of the conversation.

Once they arrived at their destination, Morgan parked the car and Rossi got out and entered the building to give the two agents some privacy.

The black agent remained sitting and prevented his colleague from leaving the car by putting a restraining hand on his arm.

Spencer stopped in his motion and gazed at him.

"Please, tell me what this is all about. What did you remember during that hypnosis session?" Derek had almost a pleading look on his face. Something had clearly shaken his friend and he wanted to know what it was.

"I saw my father burning some bloody clothes in the backyard," Spencer simply said.

Momentarily stunned, Morgan didn't keep him from getting out of the car this time. After a moment he pulled himself together and followed suit. So they walked together down the street toward the police station.

"I don't really want to ask, but since being a child molester is part of the profile…" Derek trailed off.

"No, he didn't," his friend answered and the agent let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"What did your mom say?" he asked then.

"She remembered Riley, but not my father burning the clothes." After a moment Reid added, "And she said something else."

Derek looked at him. "What was it?"

"She said, 'It could have been you'."

Knowing how his friend would interpret this, Morgan said, "She's not stable, Reid. You can't put stock in what she says. I don't need to tell you that."

"And I don't need to tell you that this is textbook: Father reroutes his compulsion to molest away from his own son to a surrogate," the young man countered.

"The woman thought Riley Jenkins was an imaginary friend until you told her otherwise."

Spencer simply dismissed Morgan's objection by saying, "Her mind's way of suppressing memories she doesn't wanna face."

"You're losing objectivity here, kid," Derek stated.

The genius stopped and turned toward him. "Okay, look. I'm not gonna say that I know what happened, or-or-or how my dad's involved, Morgan. But my dad's involved."

They had almost reached the station and Reid looked at the entrance. Derek followed his gaze. At that moment they saw Riley's father coming out, glancing briefly at them and leaving in the opposite direction.

"What's he doing here?" Spencer asked surprised.

His friend didn't have an answer to that. "Come on, let's go inside," he said and approached the door followed by Reid whose gaze was on Mr. Jenkins a moment longer.

Rossi was already waiting for them, sitting at a desk. "Patrol has picked up your father. They should be arriving any minute now," he informed them.

As if on cue the door opened and William Reid stepped inside, accompanied by a police officer who let him to the interrogation room. Spencer couldn't help but watch them until they disappeared through a door.

Both of his colleagues noticed that and shared a glance, but neither of them commented on it. Then Dave got up and went to the observation room that was connected to the interrogation room by a one-way mirror window.

"You're ready for this, kid?" Morgan asked gently.

Though he nodded the young agent seemed unsure if he really was.

However before they could join their superior, Detective Hyde approached them. "I wanna talk to you," he said and went into his office.

After looking at each other in surprise the agents followed him.

"Please, sit down," the cop invited them. Spencer did while Derek remained standing.

"I saw that you arrested William Reid," the detective began.

Calmly the young man replied, "New questions came up. We just brought him in to get some answers."

"You have no evidence," the older man shot back.

"A suspect can be detained for questioning for 48 hours regardless of evidence," Reid said, sounding like he had just recited it straight from a police handbook – which he probably did.

"I'm not in the habit of ruining people's reputations on a whim."

Sensing that he wouldn't get through the wall that was this detective, Spencer requested, "Where's your captain? I wanna talk to your captain."

"Talk all you want. This is a local murder and your authority ends at the state line. Look," Hyde got up and continued," why don't you just head over to the 'Fountain View'," he sat down on the edge of his desk, "have a couple of cocktails at the pool and think about this?"

"I have thought about this," Reid replied coldly.

"Guy's your father," the cop said.

"What's your point, detective?" Spencer asked irritated.

"Maybe you're here to work out some other issues," Hyde suggested.

That hit a nerve with the young agent. He shot up from the chair and put some distance between himself and the detective, not sure how to react to this, mainly because the cop could be right. But the agent wasn't ready to admit it to himself, let alone to a stranger.

Morgan decided to step in to rescue his friend from answering. So he moved forward to stand between the two men, almost like a human shield for Reid, and tried a more diplomatic way.

"Look, we would consider it a personal favor if you helped us out with this. We just want him on his heels."

Standing behind him, Spencer prayed that his friend's strategy would be successful.

After briefly considering it, the cop gave in. "You've got 24 hours."

"I appreciate that," Morgan thanked him, while Reid already stormed out of the office, pushing the door a bit harder than necessary to relieve some of his anger.

He hoped that 24 hours were enough because he knew that once this time was up, they wouldn't get any help from the detective at all.

Though Spencer wasn't looking forward to interview his father, he finally wanted to get some answers.

But deep down he had a feeling that it wouldn't be that easy.

"_Memory is a child walking along a seashore. You never can tell what small pebble it will pick up and store away among its treasured things." American theologian Pierce Harris_

_**A/N: Thanks for reading! If you have some time please leave a review! Constructive criticism is always appreciated.**_


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